


Clytie

by IMtheDevil



Series: Monsta X Short Stories [9]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Falling out of friendship, Gen, Jealousy, Mythology References, Painting, ex-friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19176694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMtheDevil/pseuds/IMtheDevil
Summary: In Greek mythology, Clytie loved and was loved by the sun god Helios, until she fell out of his favor. As she pined, unmoving, she would watch his progression through the sky. After some time, she transformed into a flower. According to some—a marigold.MWHA prompt: write a story based on a randomly generated flower (Marigold) and member (Shownu).Marigolds symbolize despair, jealousy, resentment, pain, and grief.





	Clytie

Hyunwoo had been in a slump, forcing himself to create with smaller projects—a sketch here, a still life there—and yet no inspiration had struck. He had been sapped dry of any ideas or motivation, furthering his dejected mood and irritating him beyond belief.

Yet here he was—staring at the same damn pot of marigolds he had been for the last week. He haphazardly swiped color onto the canvas, more concerned with getting something onto the blank slate than accuracy. Movement drew his attention away from the flowers and back to his work.

Startled, Hyunwoo jerked the brush away.

The paint morphed and slid, dripping down to pool below the easel in a murky blob that grew past a logical size. There was no way the amount of acrylic on the canvas would create something that big. He peered at the puddle of paint. It seemed to extend beyond the floor, a bottomless depth that he leaned towards. What if he were to attempt to discover if it had a bottom after all? Even if it didn’t, surely sinking for an eternity would be better than the torture he was putting himself through. 

A spark of sanity forced Hyunwoo back; he toppled off of the stool and skidded onto the linoleum. Hands raw from the fall, he tore off the apron, tossing it to the ground as he fled from the room.

…

He didn’t fully realize where his feet had carried him until he stopped. Café Del Sol—the last place he should be going with his mood as it was.

Hyunwoo, against his better judgment, looked into the window to see who was behind the counter. Minhyuk was beaming at the man in front of him, pointing to various types of coffee and likely explaining the areas from which each of them originated. He spoke with a vigor that indicated that nothing was amiss. Like his world kept spinning without a hitch.

A sour taste coated Hyunwoo’s mouth as he recalled how Minhyuk’s texts had dwindled into nonexistence. Minhyuk would reappear in their friend messaging group, but never with the purpose to speak to Hyunwoo. He’d cordially respond to Hyunwoo’s hello, but remained distant otherwise. 

Hyunwoo was sure it wasn’t him. Or was it? Minhyuk had given some excuse about work as his reason for not being active, but then he’d be out and about with Jooheon or Changkyun. Hyunwoo would only find out after the fact, once one of them had posted about it on social media.

He felt rejected and excluded. Like Minhyuk had measured him and found him wanting. As if he weren’t worthy to revolve around the sun that was Minhyuk. Hyunwoo clenched his fists. He bit down the urge to bang on the glass, to shout at Minhyuk and demand an explanation. Something told him there was more between them other than the glass—a barrier that Minhyuk had erected against him.

Instead, he slunk away from the café and trudged back to his studio.

…

Shards of the ceramic pot were littered across the floor. Dirt was smeared, torn flower petals strewn about on top of the mess. The easel lay prone beneath the ripped canvas. Cans of paint had been dashed against the wall.

Hyunwoo was sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily. He stared at the ceiling, where a photo of Minhyuk had been speared by a palette knife—the blade piercing through the center. He felt a strange satisfaction out of the destruction he had wrought. The emotions had been bottled inside for too long, and it was better that recipient of those emotions were inanimate objects.

A shaft of sunlight hit Hyunwoo’s face. He shifted to where he could watch the sun descend, as light and color drained from the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @monmaddie  
> Monbebe Amino: I.M the Devil


End file.
